


Finding Someone (Can I get a map or something?)

by Jay_Dayy



Category: Be More Chill - Iconis/Tracz
Genre: Bad Writing, Based On A Panic! At The Disco Song, Best Friends, Bisexual Jeremy Heere, Car Accidents, Character Death, Character Turned Into a Ghost, Crushes, Dermatillomania, F/M, Gay Michael Mell, Grief/Mourning, I'm Bad At Tagging, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Implied/Referenced Suicide, M/M, Multi, On Hiatus, Other Fandoms Not Mentioned in Tags, Out of Character, Past Relationship(s), Photography, Post-Canon, Self-Hatred, Suicide Notes, Therapy, Trans Michael Mell, based on a youtube video, only a few mentions of it though
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-30
Updated: 2018-02-13
Packaged: 2019-02-23 22:30:46
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,965
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13199907
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jay_Dayy/pseuds/Jay_Dayy
Summary: Jeremy was tangled. Thread dug into his skin, cutting deep enough for beads of crimson to begin to seep. These threads were obsession, the obsession of finding someone you've once lost. Somehow he finds someone else with a lot of anger boiled inside.Can Jeremy help them move on if he hasn't?





	1. Bruised knuckles

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [House of Memories AU](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/347559) by AQuiznakingCrow. 



> Based off of "House of Memories" AU by AQuiznakingCrow
> 
> I hope you enjoy! Due to depression and my fucked up life, I haven't the motivation to write but this plot gave me the fire to finish my other stories! So, Quiz (?), Thanks. 
> 
> Also not beta read and written on my phone!

Click, click!

The dim hallway is flooded with a white light for a moment before it disappeared, leaving Jeremy in the darkness once again. He blinked in an attempt to adjust his eyes as he blindly groped his camera to find the Printing Polaroid. He Pinched the corner,waving the photo in the air to reveal whatever his trusty old camera might’ve caught. 

He lifted the photo to his face, narrowing his eyes as he scanned the blurry photo for any oddities. Jeremy let out a sigh and dropped the photo to the floor, watching it flutter hopelessly into the darkness near his scuffed converse. 

He began to walk down the corridor; his shoes crunched over broken glass caused by reckless teenagers feeling the sudden urge to punch a dirty window.

Jeremy was there for it, after all. 

***

They were a confusing group of friends, to say the least. A handful of kids from different backgrounds and groups somehow had created the perfect group. The people who once fought now found comfort in one another because they were tied together by a grim string.

Loss. They all were a patchwork stitched together from cruel thread but nonetheless stitched together for life. Even as the blanket frayed and they fell apart over time; they were connected by one event that completely changed Jeremy’s entire life. The strings ensnared him, cutting deep into his skin and pulling him far away from his friends who so dearly wanted Jeremy to realize it wasn’t his fault…

… even if it was.

Jeremy had been rudely woken up by his dad burging into his room and pulling his blanket off of his crumpled body. He stayed silent, his throat raw from crying all night. His eyes were swollen shut, and his hair hadn't been brushed since the funeral. The hair gel he had used to slick his hair back still remained.

He must look a wreck, judging by the small noise his father made. Jeremy was too exhausted to care anymore. The mattress shifted as his dad sat down next to him. “Your friends are mighty worried about you. They’ve been showing up on our doorstep every day asking about you.” His dad spoke to the silence in the room.

“You’re going through something that most people are lucky enough to avoid until adulthood, Jeremy. I know it hurts. Remember how I was when your mother left? But you’re a kid. Go shower, get changed. It’s summer time!” Jeremy cracked an eye open to look at his father smile at him despite the tears pooling in his eyes. His dad was an emotional man, so it shouldn't feel so weird to see him cry in front of him. Both he and Jeremy cried at the funeral, for christs sake.

Jeremy shifted, the first movement he had made in a few days. He felt weak, but he wanted to be strong for his dad. His dad sniffled before continuing to speak. 

“Your friends want to help you, buddy, they were practically trying to break in to see you!” His dad chuckled, “I know it feels like the end of the world, but it isn’t, Jeremy! Both you and I know they would beat your ass if they knew you were just moping around.”

Jeremy opened his mouth to speak, but all that escaped was a shaky sob. He slowly pulled himself upright and wrapped his arms around his dad, crying pitifully into the crook of his neck as if he were a child getting consoled over a night terror. His dad smelt like bacon and campfire, bringing back memories of how much his dad had gone through. Eventually Jeremy felt himself calm down, what used to be soft wails were now muffled hiccups and the occasional sniffle.

“I love you, dad.”

“I love you too, son,” There was a brief pause before he spoke again, “you really need to shower, though.” They both laughed despite the sadness still lingering in the air. Jeremy stood and after taking a much needed shower, Jeremy was still very sad but felt alive for once.   
He wiped the fog off the window and for a second he thought he caught a glimpse of familiar dark hair in his mirror. He blinked and it was gone, replaced by a lanky teenage boy with sunken, bloodshot eyes and a messy mop of hair. 

He looked like a zombie and that made him tear up, his vision blurring with tears.

“C’mon… Why is that making me cry?” He mumbled to himself as he hastily wiped away his tears, “God, I’m such a fucking wreck without you.” Jeremy pulled his shirt on and after quickly raking his fingers through his sopping hair he left the bathroom, hearing the sound of soft chatter from the dining room. 

He walked into the room to see a familiar group of people eating breakfast at his dining table. He froze, staring at them. They hadn’t changed at all, it seemed. Jenna was snapchatting the others, Rich was talking animatically about something sport-related to Jake while Christine spoke to the two other girls about the play for next year.

Jeremy on the other hand was standing there in only a tshirt and his tighty-whities. 

Rich looked up from the bacon he had been shoveling down his throat to spot Jeremy. A beam stretched across his face and in his excitement Rich knocked over Brook’s glass of orange juice.

“HE LIVES!” Shouted the boy, gathering the attention of everyone at the table. They all stared at him, eyes searching him for any sign that he was going to fall apart, Rich broke the silence with a cat call, “You KNOW my bisexual butt was going to make a comment on your outfit, Jeremy!” With that, the friends sprung out of their chairs and crowded around Jeremy, each of them chattering at once. They each tried to fill him in to what has changed in the group dynamic and Chloe even made a comment towards his embarrassing appearance. 

“Your legs are so long!” She complimented. Jeremy looked at her, waiting for any sign of sarcasm but she was genuine. “I bet you’d look bomb in some kick-ass heels.” Jeremy simply made a noise and nodded, looking up to make eye contact with Christine, who elbowed her way through the crowd to pull Jeremy into a bear hug. 

“We should give them a minute, guys.” Spoke Jake. Everyone in the group groaned as he pulled them away, leaving the two teenagers alone in the hallway to have a much-needed chat. Christine was unusually quiet, her expression somber as she looked up at Jeremy. He was silent, recognizing that she needed a minute to gather her thoughts. Christine chuckled quietly, shaking her head.

“I was going to ask if you were okay.” Christine looked into his eyes, smiling warmly at him, “you’re not, I know, but you’re here now and we’re so happy.” She stepped back, holding him out at a distance to admire him. 

“I-I’m…” Jeremy hung his head, “I’m trying to move on. It’s so hard, Christine, I-” His voice cracked and just as he thought he was running out of tears they started to pour. “I’m sorry, I try not to cry and p-put this burden on you-”

“Ssh!” Christine interrupted, “I love you, Jeremy. W-We’re sad too. You’re not a burden! It’s okay to cry.” She stood on her toes and pulled him down into a sweet kiss and he closed his eyes as he pulled her closer, his hand lacing through her hair. For a minute, the world around the lovestruck teens faded away; the sadness remained, but the feeling of butterflies in his gut masked it.

“YEAH, GET IT, JEREMY!” They startled, jumping apart to see the group standing there. Jeremy began to stammer apologises and Christine hid her blushing face in her hands and giggled nervously. 

Brook giggled, “Did you tell him the agenda for the rest of the day, or were you two too focused on making out?” Jeremy shook his head, mumbling that he didn’t know their plans for him.

“First, get your party pants on… Or, like, actual pants because we found a new place to party!” Chloe exclaimed, bumping hips with Jenna. “No one’s heard of it yet so it’s super cool!” 

“I can confirm.” Jenna piped up, “we’ll be the first to party in it. No one’s heard of it.” Jeremy expected Chloe to yell at Jenna for piping in, but surprisingly Chloe simply smiled at her in encouragement. “It’s gonna be fun!”

“A party? I’m not sure if I’m in a party mood.” The last party he’d gone to was the halloween party and he’s tried his damndest to wipe that night from his memory. He didn’t want to remember anything from it, really, it was a disaster. 

“It’s not gonna be a party-party. More of a hang out and drink beer with your best pals.” Jake leaned on his cane, “my grandma gave me some money, I bought beer off an upperclassman.” He shrugged, eyes darting towards the office where Jeremy’s dad sat, working on his spreadsheets. 

“Don’t worry ‘bout him. He just wants me to stop moping and get outta the house, plus, he gets so absorbed in his business stuff. I bet he can’t hear what we’re saying! Watch this.” Jeremy cleared his throat, “DAD, CAN I USE YOUR CAR FOR A BANK HEIST TO GET DRUG MONEY?”

“Hm? Oh, sure, do whatever.” His eyes didn't move from his laptop screen. The teens snickered. Jeremy excused himself to finish getting dressed, a smile on his face for the first time since it happened. He was genuinely excited to see what place they had found.

After squeezing into Christine’s dad’s pick up truck (Chloe and Brooke laid in the bed) they set off to the outskirts of the town and onto a creepy dirt road leading them deep into the woods. Jeremy gripped Christine’s hand as trees zoomed past the window. They approached an old warehouse, a tannery, and went in to see they had set the place up with folding chairs and a small fireplace.

“It smells like mildew.” Jeremy remarked as they (except Christine) sat in front of a fire sipping crappy beer and talking about random stuff.

“It’s a part of the charm.” Jake responded. Jeremy didn't argue. It was a fun hangout spot, sure, and thank god it was relatively clean and void of animals and drug addicts. Time flew and he began to measure it by the amount of empty beer cans around his feet.

Two…

Jeremy was a lightweight, much like Rich. He was already feeling it, his stomach twisting and his head weirdly light. He giggled at stupid things, his cheeks burned, he was happy and tipsy. For once he could forget. 

His friends spoke happily and all was good before Jeremy picked up on something.

“God, I’m going to the beach soon for vacation. I’ll literally die if I get a sunburn.” Jenna said. Chloe hissed for her to shut up, eyes darting towards Jeremy. She mouthed something to Jake, who nodded and changed the topic.

They’re shielding him from the word death, or the topic itself. It was annoying him.

Four…

It wasn’t a one time thing and Jeremy has had enough. He’s not a child, nor did he want his friends to act like he was. Yeah, he was mourning but he wasn’t brittle. Jeremy seethed silently, glaring at his clenched fists.

“‘M not a child.” He grunted.

“What do you mean, Jeremy?” Brook asked. They all glanced at each other. Jeremy stood and walked towards the window, staring out at the sun setting behind the trees. He leaned his forehead on the glass. 

He didn’t answer.

“Jeremy, you should sit back down. You’ve drank quite a lot.” Christine spoke gingerly, as if he’s an animal about to attack. Jeremy shook his head, tears forming in his eyes. Everything was changing and it was too much. It’s too much. 

Too much.

A hand on his shoulder. 

Anger. It’s too much right now.

Jeremy punched the window.


	2. Hopefully it's Cheddar

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What's scarier? Being trapped in a metaphorical maze, or a literal one? Jeremy wasn't sure.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, this isn't beta read!
> 
> I'm also kinda proud of it, you can see that I tried a new writing style and hopefully I will improve with practice. I have trouble writing metaphors and since I usually write *garbage* romance and not... Whatever genre this is trying to be.
> 
> Please leave a comment, I love them! :)

Pity was Jeremy had grown to know as something that plagued his day-to-day life. It used to infuriate him each time he saw it in the eyes of his friends, or how they hesitated before mentioning their name. He assumed it would blow over with time, but it only increased as time went by and Jeremy became somewhat of a hermit, only leaving his house to take pictures and talking to his friends once in a blue moon. Most of them have seemingly lost hope, but a few stood strong and stayed determined not to lose touch.

Jeremy didn't understand why they would want to talk to a failure of a person like him, but he wasn't complaining. It was interesting to see what they have done after school.

“So, what are you doing nowadays, Jeremy?” Rich leaned towards his laptop camera. Jeremy chuckled, running a hand through his chocolate-brown mop as he tried to find a dignified way to say ‘I take pictures of ghosts’ to Rich, who had started a company with his high-school sweetheart aimed to help bullied minorities and abused kids. He was moving on with his life and has even spoken about looking for a surrogate willing to carry his child.

“Well, it’s hard to explain…” He trailed off, looking at his laptop screen, “I’m a photographer who takes pictures of- uh... Supernatural.” There was a beat of silence before Rich broke out into laughter, wiping tears from the corner of his eyes as his laughter faded into shrill giggles. Jeremy was silent, unsure what to say in this moment. His cheeks flooded red.

“What, you’re still hunting ghosts or some shit?” Rich exhaled, clearly waiting for Jeremy to tell him that he was joking. Jeremy stayed silent, “You're not joking."

“No, I am not.” Jeremy leaned back in his desk chair, averting his eyes from his computer screen in an attempt to ignore the fleeting looks of pity on Rich’s face. Jeremy felt his stomach tighten and his muscles tense. Violent thoughts of smacking the sorrow off Rich's face flashed through his mind, but he shook away the thoughts. There was an awkward silence where both boys didn’t know to say. Jeremy was tempted to shut his computer screen to end the awkwardness when he paused, clearly hearing Rich’s husband enter the room.

“Hey, babe, where’d you put my shampoo?” Jeremy looked up to see Rich visibly soften at the sight of his true love. He turned the laptop to face the doorway where Jake stood in his boxers with a towel draped around his neck. He averted his eyes from Jake's state of undress and looked down at his hands as they picked at a torn cuticle, scratching at tender skin until it was raw.

“Jake, say hi to Jeremy!”

“Hi to Jeremy.” Jake winked, “nah, I’m kidding! Hey Jeremy! How’s life treating you, bro?”

Jeremy scratched the back of his neck, looking everywhere but the screen. “It’s… It’s good. My life, that is. Yeah, it's been what- a year since we've last talked face to face... Or through a screen that is!" Great to see that Jeremy's adolescent awkwardness hasn't changed over the years. In that moment, Jeremy begged whatever God to let the Earth swallow him whole.

“That's great to hear! Well, hey, we'll be talking to you later, okay? Have a good one.” Jake pressed a kiss to Rich’s cheek, “talk to you later!” They hung up, leaving Jeremy in the darkness alone. Nothing unusual, it seemed. Everyone was moving on with their lives, going to college, getting married, starting a family, yet Jeremy was held back by his endless thoughts of what if, what if, what if. What if they still lingered, waiting for him to find them?

He has lost everyone. Everyone had left him, or died, or simply packed up on moved on. He unsure whether he hated them for seemingly forgetting them or himself for not moving on like they were. Jeremy wanted a life too, a house in the city, someone to hold close, maybe a few kids in the future.

But he needed to apologize. He didn’t deserve to move on, he couldn’t move on without apologizing and seeing them once again.

Jeremy sighed and began to go through his piles upon piles of Polaroids, useless blurry Polaroids. He had been going from place to place, reliving memories over and over as he searched for them, looking for any proof of their continued existence on Earth. Any proof to validate his endless search, to make up for the innumerable days spent until he could finally move on.

Nothing, nothing, nothing, and more nothing. There’s nothing but blurry, useless photos, it seemed like Jeremy has failed once again. But what was new? Jeremy himself was a walking failure; the pure embodiment of defeat and disappointment. He only had one last place to visit. Jeremy has been practicing for this, preparing for either disappointment or the best thing he’s encountered in his three years of work, yet he felt so unprepared.

“What are you scared of? For them to tell you what you already know? It's all your fault, you know.” A familiar voice sneered in the back of his head. Jeremy groaned, mentally flipping off what lingers of the Squip, “Classy Jeremy, but both you and I know that you’re just a coward. You’re too scared to face them because you know that it’s all your fault. You can't face the truth, can you? Pathetic.”

Jeremy blinked back his tears and just listened to the voice taunt him.

“You’re a pathetic coward, Jeremy.” He could hear the sneer in his jibes, “Why not just give up if you’re not actually going to find them? Why continue to waste your time? Why not join them? Seeing them would only remind them that it should've been you that died, not them.”

“I’m gonna- I’m…” Jeremy swallowed heavily but his sadness turned into anger and anger turned into pure determination, “No, I’m going to find them and-And make amends for what I’ve done. You can’t stop me.” He stood up, sending piles of photos fluttering through the air like snow falling to the ground during a blizzard. He stepped on the useless photos, ruining them. They wouldn't be needed after this one last place.

Jeremy began packing that night, writing a note to his dad and putting survival gear - water, snacks, a notepad, flashlights, bandages, and extra film - into his messenger bag. He looked at a picture of him and his friends in his wallet before setting out into the night, his stomach sinking from dread. He tried to convince himself it was excitement, but how could he be excited to do something he’s been avoiding for years?

He drove down the empty roads under the stars, trembling slightly as sweat trickled down the side of his face. Jeremy was going to do it, he was going to do it… His heart thumped against his rib cage, which tightened around his lungs uncomfortably; resisting the boy from taking a deep breath. His body was suffocating him.

He slowed to a stop in front of the dilapidated school building, devastated by lack of funding or care from the town government. They had put their funds into a new school and left this one to rot. Jeremy turned off his car and simply stared at it, amazed at how nature and wildlife had overtaken the school. Vines and plants climbed over the rickety brick wall and he could see bird nests crammed into every nook and cranny of the building.

Jeremy closed his eyes and tried to calm himself. After attempting to take deep breaths - a method recommended by his therapist - he gave up and climbed out of his old Chevy cruiser, beginning to walk towards the decrepit building. Jeremy crept around the building in search for a way to get in. All the windows and doors were boarded up haphazardly with jagged boards. He pulled at them, but even though they appeared poorly hammered in, they were sturdy. After a minute of pulling and grunting, he had managed to pull enough that he could wiggle his way into the building awkwardly.

He landed on the linoleum flooring hard, pain shooting up his arms. He let out a rather masculine squeal and scrambled to his feet, rubbing his elbows in an attempt to get rid of the tender bruises beginning to form on his flesh. After a minute of trying not to cry over something so stupid, Jeremy looked around the classroom. It was surreal, to say the least. The outside of the building looked so ruined, yet the inside seemed preserved somehow, like it was part of another world. The only difference was the smell of rot and the six inches of dust covering everything. Jeremy sneezed, his eyes watering slightly.

Of course, the one thing he had to be allergic to is dust. Great.

Jeremy grabbed his flashlight from his bag and shined it around the room, searching for anything out of usual.

“Hello?” He called, eyes scanning the area. It was so quiet. Even though the crickets outside were going ham, it was somehow deathly silent in the abandoned school. He walked out into the hallway, his hands quivering as he looked for any sign of the supernatural. “If anyone is there, make your presence known!”

Silence was the only response. Jeremy was unsure if he was relieved or disappointed.

He pulled out his camera and took a picture, just as it began to print the ground trembled. Jeremy looked up. A figure stood in front of him glowing slightly. His heart leapt into his throat and he reached for the photo. The ghostly figure shook its head and suddenly the ground lurched violently and everything started shaking.

“Fuck! An Earthquake?” He covered his head as the ceiling tiles crumbled like a house of cards, showering him in white powder. He looked up see the classroom he exited from was now blocked by a destroyed wall, leaving him trapped inside the school. His teeth rattled and his knees quivered, barely able to keep him standing on the trembling floor. The tiles began to crack and splinter under his feet and the school building groaned under the stress.

Jeremy thought he was going to die in there, crushed under the rubble. They’d probably not find him and forget him, leaving him to rot and decompose in this mess of a school. If he died, would he be forced to wander the Earth, forced to watch everyone be happy without him. It would be his punishment for what he did, wouldn’t it? For a moment, he thought he could hear someone chuckle darkly at him before the shaking stopped at once, casting the boy in pure silence that drowned out the sound of his thoughts running rampant. He collapsed to the floor, tears running down his face as he gasped for air, grabbing fists of his brown hair and tugging hard.

He almost died.

But now the man was trapped in the building with a ghost and it’s possibly going to kill him. Jeremy has played enough Corpse Party to know that he was going to be decapitated in this closed off building. He hugged his knees hard, hard enough that he briefly wondered if he would crack a rib. After a few minutes of sobbing Jeremy leaned against a wall, almost too exhausted to go on and tempted to just lay there forever. Of course, that wasn’t realistic so he slowly climbed to his feet and tried to brush off the dust caking him. It was futile and he rolled his eyes, unsure how he’s going to explain to his dad why he was covered in dust if he even managed to escape from the school with something seemingly hellbent on keeping him trapped inside.

Jeremy coughed and rubbed his eyes, sniffling grossly. “Hello?” He called, hearing his own voice echo through empty corridors once filled with life and movement. Now it stood still, devoid of life and color. He pitied whatever spirit forced to wander these halls for however long they have existed, he wondered what it would be like to be trapped with such silence. He didn't blame it for going crazy, he sure would have.

He reached for his camera which appeared to be fine, but the photo he had taken was ruined, ripped into tiny little pieces and scattered across the floor. Jeremy gathered them in his palm, shakily pouring it into his cardigan’s pocket for safekeeping. It seemed he was working with a poltergeist here who clearly didn’t want him to leave. In his years of ghost hunting, he has never encountered a ghost who could go into a human form like that. His heart beat rapidly and he was unsure if it was from fear or excitement.

Jeremy crept through the halls cautiously, suddenly hyper aware of every noise he was making. His shaky breaths, his footsteps, the way his heartbeat pitter-pattered in his chest like the tell-tale heart. Poetically, it was much like the story. He was riddled with guilt for Deaths he had caused, and he wanted to rip his heart out like the killer in the story did, ripping up the floor-boards and proving him guilty.

And what was he hearing exactly? Footsteps, the familiar humming, the rattling of the boards on the windows? Jeremy couldn’t tell. He held his breath and waited for… What?  
Another chuckle so low Jeremy wasn’t sure if it was in his head or not. He turned slightly into the darkness of the hallway behind him, squinting, waiting for it to appear despite his brain begging him to _run, run, run_. With quivering hands Jeremy held up his camera and aimed it at the oblivion.

Click, click!

The flash briefly lit up the hallway just enough for Jeremy to see the outline of a man standing there, hands in pockets, and a smile that lacked any form of life and happiness. It began to walk towards him and Jeremy took off running, scrambling wildly away from whatever it was. He dodged pieces of rubble, his sneakers slipping on the tile floor as he tried to escape.

Jeremy knows escape was futile. It had him right there it wanted him. He was trapped in a rat maze with a predator he couldn’t even label or describe. He would describe it as cat and mouse, but it was more like mouse and an entity that had no bounds; free from the rules of reality. Jeremy didn’t know what it was capable of and now he was trapped in the entity’s domain for it to toy with him. It could possibly kill him now, but it was choosing not to.

… And that’s what scared Jeremy the most.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> LEAVE A COMMENT PLEASE. I REQUIRE VALIDATION. 
> 
> Jk, but still, comments are life.
> 
> <3 :)


	3. Reflections are Distractions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jeremy wanders the halls some more and looks back on the past, stirring up some bitter-sweet feelings.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Formatting on here is really hard when you copy and paste it from a google drive, so it might look a bit odd. I'm sorry for that, and I'm sorry if this chapter was complete garbage. I just started school again after taking a long break and I'm exhausted.

Jeremy crouched on a toilet, hiding his feet from view from the bottom of the bathroom stall. He held his breath and stayed as quiet as he could, his muscles aching from holding such an awkward position, yet fear kept him perched there.

  
_He was going to die. He was going to die in a god damn bathroom_ , killed by this unknown entity in however fashion it pleased. Would it feist on his flesh, or would it torture him until he was begging for Death? Jeremy had wished for Death many times in his life, even going so far into preparing his final words to a cold, unforgiving words but now he felt this primal urge to fight, fight, fight for his life and escape this cursed place once and for all.

  
Jeremy was such a fucking idiot. What had he expected? He had waltzed into the dragon’s den and expected not to get his head bit off, he should’ve known that the spirits would be restless and the fact that he brought in a camera only provoked it every further!

  
Yeah… That must be it, there’s no other reason why this spirit would be upset with him, _right?_

 

* * *

 

  
Things had changed after it and Jeremy didn’t know how to fix it. He tried including them in the group, inviting them along to things, but they pulled away and became more and more distant. Jeremy didn’t know what to do and he just… _Let them go a_ nd he _hated_ himself for it. He hated himself so much. He killed them, it was his fault, he messed up and now they’re dead.

  
Jeremy was sinking. He couldn’t stop crying. Everything was them, everyone was pitying him and encouraging him but he kept sinking to the bottom of a salty sea, lower and lower into the darkness of the cold, cold ocean.

  
It was the beginning of his downfall.

* * *

  
Jeremy pressed his hand to his mouth and cautiously opened the bathroom door, peering out into the hallway. He didn’t want to go out there, God, he just wanted to curl up in here and never move but he had to. Jeremy had to get out of here, or he risks dying from the hands of that thing or other causes he’d prefer not to think about. He crept out into the hall, eyes scanning the walls; looking at the paintings and artwork done by students. Gingerly, he reached out, feeling the edges of torn paper and reading the clumsy signatures. Jeremy looked for his art, a self-portrait he did a long time ago and found it scribbled over in red pen, his eyes crossed out into x’s and almost unreadable words covered the art he had made. His stomach dropped as he unraveled a crumpled paper next to his, revealing it to be a picture Christine had drawn.

  
Christine had never been a good artist, the extent of her artistic abilities was on stage and in writing, while she simply never had a knack for art. Jeremy never would admit it, but he was okay at drawing and tried teaching Christine at one point during one of his favorite art classes to date. 

* * *

  
“How do you do noses?!” She exclaimed, laying her head down on the table with a groan. Jeremy smiled and looked up from his rough sketch to peer over at her self-portrait; a picture of her smiling while wearing a Phantom of the Opera mask. He bit his bottom lip as he scanned her clumsy, shaky lines and her disproportionate, lifeless eyes devoid of detail or life. Jeremy fought not to wince at the artistic mistakes she made and smiled at her.

  
“Well,” Jeremy moved his paper out of the way and scooted his stool closer to hers, “D’ya want me to help?”

  
She didn’t lift her head from where it laid on the table, “If you even can fix this…” She jolted up suddenly, gesturing wildly at her paper. “That doesn’t even look like me! It looks like a robot, or an alien, or something!” Christine grabbed his watercolor portrait and gawked at it, her eyes twinkling with admiration and pride.

  
“Oh, that’s uh-” Jeremy looked down at his hands, his cheeks lighting pink as Christine gushed to the other kids at the table about how talented he was and how beautiful his art was. Jeremy hid his face in his hand and grumbled into his paint-covered palms about how it’s not really that good, that it’s not a big deal.

  
Christine gave up trying to get people to notice her boyfriend’s talent before sitting back down and pressing a kiss to his cheek, only making him even redder. “Okay, so, what can we do to make me look less like a pigeon?” Her wording made Jeremy giggle and he emerged from his hiding place to teach her how to make a sketch. Jeremy laid his hand on hers and guided her on her piece of paper, his heart beating out of his chest as she leaned on him and he could smell her perfume and hear her breathing softly next to his ear, her breath warmly-

  
**NOPE.** Jeremy jerked away, his head foggy as he startled Christine, “I gotta use the bathroom!” He rushed out of the room with a speed only a hormonal teenager could manage, leaving behind a smirking Christine and a finished sketch of her in a mask; her wide smile frozen in time forever, to be preserved on the walls of the school for everyone to see and admire. When they hung it up, both Christine and Jeremy stood in front of it and looked at it, a smile on their lips and a pleasant tightness in their chests. Jeremy sighed, turning to look at Christine who was gazing back at him with a dopey love-sick look in her eyes. They both flushed and giggled, simply being two awkward teens in love.

  
“Thank you.” Christine mumbled, blinking slowly.

  
“Y-You too.”

* * *

  
Jeremy wiped his tears with the back of his sleeve, smearing dust all over his face. He looked at the crumpled drawing and gingerly folded it, sliding it into his backpack for safe-keeping. He eyed the destroyed drawing of himself and shuddered, a strange mixture of fear and sadness slithering down his spine, turning him almost sluggish.

  
_Who_ would destroy his pictures? _Why_ would they do this? The questions buzzed around his mind like an angry hive of honeybees. He shook his head as if to clear the thoughts, focusing on the fact that he was in another creature’s domain.

  
Jeremy lifted his camera to his eye and took a picture of the rubble laying around him.

  
Click, click!

  
He grabbed the photo and shook it, watching as the image appeared… And it was nearly pitch black, as if something was covering the camera. Jeremy felt the lens and confirmed that nothing was on it. Jeremy rationalized that it was an ancient camera, his mom's before his, and it might've messed up that one time and he should try again. He lifted the camera back up and tried again, filling the hallway with light and blinding himself for a second.

  
Click, click!

  
Jeremy shook the photo and narrowed his eyes at it, trying to figure out what this was. A deep pool of black surrounded by white? He held it out and looked again, his throat clenching once he realized what it was.

  
An eye peering into the lens, an eye so devoid of emotion and life that it was almost completely recognizable. His heart leap into his throat as he slowly looked up to see a figure lunge him, simply a blur of color as it knocked him off balance and sent him tumbling to the floor. Jeremy pushed it off of him, a terror-stricken scream escaping his lips as he scrambled backwards, watching it as crawled like some sort of animal towards him, their soulless eyes lighting up with excitement as it eyed his throat hungrily.  
Jeremy hit the wall and screamed as it pushed towards him. He hopelessly flailed, pushing it away the best he could, but it’s cold hand wrapped around his throat and cut off his air flow. Jeremy heaved as if he was vomiting, a waterfall of salty tears stinging the cuts and scrapes on his face and washing away the dust. 

It was killing him! It was killing him! Jeremy was going to die, die, _die, die-_

  
He grabbed his camera off where it hung around his neck and pointed it at the creature, blindly groping it for the button to set it off and reveal the face of whatever is trying to kill him.

  
Click, click!

  
He let out a choked sob the moment the illuminated the face, revealing who the ghostly figure was. Jeremy tried to choke out his name, but his vision faded into black and everything disappeared. All of his thoughts, all of his pain, his memories, his worries floated away, leaving him an empty shell. 

Jeremy was gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> MUAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! 
> 
>  
> 
> The story is long from over, folks. (Sorry if it's vague, I'll try to make the next chapter more descriptive.)
> 
> Comment pls.


	4. Remembering Things Hurts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jeremy encounters a very angry spirit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry if they're ooc
> 
> and also for not writing. have been in a rough patch but :)
> 
> This chapter is a wee bit short but I'll try to get the next chapter up

Jeremy’s head throbbed to the tempo of his heart beating in his ears. He slowly opened his eyes and tried to blink away the stars floating in his vision. His stomach clenched as he slowly sat up, wincing as he tried to breathe through a severely bruised windpipe. His gaze lazily drifted over the room, to his belongings strung around the room, scattered and torn through as if _it_ were hunting for something.

 

“It sucks to be forgotten, doesn’t it, Jeremy?” A very familiar voice broke the silence, “sucks to wander throughout these halls for… How many years now? I’ve been waiting for someone to find me but no one even _tried.”_

 

Jeremy looked up and tried to speak, to tell him that he missed him, that he’s sorry, that he’s been looking for his best friend.

 

“I was-”

 

“LIAR.” The school rumbled and Jeremy yelped, curling into a ball as _he_ suddenly appeared in front of him, fists clenched and pure hatred bubbling in his empty eyes, “You aren’t here for me, are you?!” He snagged Jeremy’s hair, forcing him to stare straight into his eyes. “Don’t lie to me, Jeremy!”

 

Jeremy sobbed, unable to speak through the tears drifting down his face. He gripped at his scalp as _his_ grip on his hair tightened. Pain shot through his body as he flailed hopelessly, kicking at the spirit and trying to escape.

 

“What am I to you? You came to- to take _pictures_ of me as if I’m some science project!” _He_ roared, the school’s rumbling growing stronger and stronger, “you’ve invaded my tomb not to appease me, but to get _proof!_ ” _He_ released Jeremy’s hair and went back to rooting through Jeremy’s things, shaking his bag and letting the contents fall to the ground. His water bottle fell and spilled, his food destroyed on the dusty ground, and an endless amount of polaroids now lay around _his_ feet. He picked one up, sneering at it cruelly.

 

“Look at this. It’s not even good camera work, Jeremy. Remember photography class?” Jeremy paled, “yeah, I sure do. You just ignored me, remember that? When we had to partner together, guess who ignored me for Christine?” He laughed, a thin peal of laughter sounding so sad as he reminded Jeremy of memories pushed to the back of his mind.

 

“I- I didn-”

 

“YOU DID!” _He_ exclaimed, “You did! You just- Pushed me aside for _her!_ It was always her, her, her! What about ME?” His voice lowered and trembled slightly, “I felt so alone, Jeremy. You- You never even tried to talk to me about what happened. What you _said_ to me…” His expression hardened once again, the sadistic anger unfamiliar to Jeremy returned and he smiled at him, a smile Jeremy had once seen over and over.

 

A fake smile.

 

Jeremy has seen this before. He just didn’t notice that Michael wasn't happy.

 

Jeremy simply gaped at him and swallowed, trying to tell the spirit that he didn’t ever want to hurt him… But he wasn’t sure if it were the right thing to say. He had always struggled with finding the right words for day-to-day social situations, how the hell was he supposed to know how to appease a tortured soul? He had tried to forget _him,_ to move on and try to get rid of that guilt that weighed him down like an anchor, yet now Jeremy is forced to deal with it face-to-face. A mixture of giddiness and dread pooled in his stomach as he tried to speak.

 

“Yo-You’re not the Michael I knew.” The moment the words flew out of Jeremy’s mouth, he knew it was the worst thing to say. He watched in horror as _his_ expression contorted from confused, to calm, to pure rage as he grabbed Jeremy by the collar of his shirt and threw him, sending him flying through a pile of stacked chairs. Jeremy didn't even make a sound other than a thud as he collided with the chairs, his head throbbing as it slammed against a desk.

 

“No, Jeremy, I’m _not the Michael you knew,”_ He mocked Jeremy with a high-pitched voice, “I’m the Michael who’s done with hiding behind a mask to spare your pretty little feelings!” Jeremy blinked once, twice, as the pain was slowly washed away by shock. He sat up, slowly, to see Michael turn into something else entirely. His skin paled ever so slightly and his eyes lost their lively glimmer, his clothes hung off of his frame like clothes on a rack…

 

Much like he was at his funeral.

 

Jeremy didn’t cry at his funeral. His group of friends clung to him, all snot and tears, but Jeremy simply stared at Michael’s corpse covered in makeup and felt nothing but contempt. Michael hated makeup when he was alive, vowing to never wear it, and now the only time he would wear it is when he was a corpse in a coffin surrounded by flowers Jeremy knew Michael didn't like. Michael didn't like white, bland, funeral flowers! He liked things with color! Tiger lilies, snapdragons, forget-me-nots!

 

No one but Jeremy knew this.

 

Jeremy also knew this wasn’t Michael, it wasn’t _his_ Michael. This restless spirit was not Michael who would take handfuls of candy from “free candy” jars with a fire in his eyes like he was breaking a rule, the Michael who couldn’t whistle, the Michael who would spend way too much time decorating his character, the Michael who Jeremy had loved ever so dearly. Jeremy lowered his head and cried. He often cried, but this was different. With each tear, it felt as if pent-up up emotions were released for the first time since Michael's funeral. He mourned Michael for the first time, allowing himself to _remember_ why he loved Michael.

 

He loved how Michael would cheer for him a bit too loudly at the end of presenting in front of the class, how Michael had this silly laugh whenever he found something hilarious, Jeremy loved how Michael would try to teach Jeremy how to dance and they’d both laugh after Jeremy fell and hit his head off something, how Michael would sometimes kiss him on the cheek and Jeremy would laugh it off, the way Michael and Jeremy would spoon on the nights they had to share a bed...

 

Jeremy looked up at Michael, who hovered right before him, and said something he had said to Michael so many times without really, really meaning it.

 

“I love you, Michael.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for reading! <3


	5. That's Not How You Move On, Jeremy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jeremy and Michael talk while Michael slowly fades.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There might be a few scenes that might trigger you. So, trigger warning for scenes involving suicide and suicidal-ness.

Jeremy could remember how his friends spoke at his funeral. Their words all ended, as if their love had ended as well. They lov _ ed _ Michael. Jeremy still loves him and he always will, even if he had trouble thinking about that, even getting to the point where he laid his picture frames face down because it hurt to remember the loss he had experienced.

 

Jeremy remembered the time Michael had tried to bleach a streak in Jeremy’s hair. Instead of turning out silver like they thought it would, it turned out to be this gross orangey color. How throughout all middle school Michael wore way too much AXE and used so much gel in his hair that when it dried it turned crunchy, or the time Michael and Jeremy were playing truth or dare and Jeremy got dared to kiss Michael.

 

The Michael ghost looked taken aback, his eyes looking alive for the first time in forever. 

 

Jeremy pulled his wallet from his pocket and opened it, revealing his favorite picture to Michael. A picture of him with his arms around Michael and Christine, a wide smile on his face as they sat on the ferris wheel together with all his friends. 

 

“Michael, I’m so sorry you were alone.” Jeremy sat up and began to crawl towards Michael, gripping his side. “I’m so sorry you felt that way. I don’t know if you know this but I was the one who- who found you.” Jeremy wanted to clench his eyes shut and try to wash away the memory, but he knew that he needed to tell Michael. “I had found your hookup at Spencer’s gifts and I got you a giant-ass bag of those discontinued Mandarin Orange Slice candy things since it was your birthday and-”

 

Jeremy remembered the smell of rot and vomit, the shadows dancing on the walls as the television displayed Apocalypse of the Dead’s death screen. Michael had clearly tried to play as both player one and two. How the game over jingle echoed around the room… How Michael laid there, still, covered in vomit and still clutching the orange emptied medicine container in a fist. Jeremy had screamed, clutching his long brown locks and tugged until it ripped. A neighbor heard him and called the police and they apparently found him hugging his cold corpse and bawling like a baby. 

 

Jeremy remembered bits and pieces. He remembered clawing at his arms until blood bubbled to the surface, he remembered screaming as they dragged him away; biting and kicking the law enforcements and screaming for Michael to come back to him.

 

“It broke me, Michael.” Was all that he could say, “I-I never thought I’d ever have to go without you. I thought… Together ‘till the end. I always imagined us in a nursing home together playing Bingo.” Jeremy smiled through his tears and looked up to see Michael once again, his skin clear, his eyes shining, looking as alive as he ever did. He reached out for Michael, and then hesitated, unsure, before Michael lunged for him and pulled him into a hug, his body trembling with sobs.

 

Jeremy froze, still unsure, before hugging him back, burying his face into the crook of his neck. It wasn’t the same, Jeremy knew. He didn’t feel nor smell like Michael when he was alive, but Jeremy knew this could be the last time he hugged Michael. 

 

Michael gasped into his ear, “I’m sorry- I can’t- I’m sorry.” Jeremy laughed ever so slightly. His wounds were pinpricks compared to be doomed into an abandoned school for years

 

“It’s okay.  _ I’m  _ sorry for… For causing this.” 

 

“I forgive you.” 

 

They pulled apart to look at eachother. Michael looked youthful while Jeremy was clearly more grown up. His heart throbbed at the sight of his Michael once again. A blush covered his cheeks and his smile shrunk, looking around the school once more. Both boys knew Michael had to leave and simply sat in silence. 

 

“Are you going to… Move on?” Jeremy questioned softly, “What appeased you?”

 

Michael smiled, warmth in his eyes for the first time in years. “You were, Jeremy. All I needed was you to finally face my Death.” He appeared happy despite the glittering tears in his eyes and Jeremy hugged him again, noticing that Michael was slowly becoming more and more transparent, fading away right in front of him. They embraced as Michael slowly faded away, silent tears falling away as they said their final goodbyes. 

 

Michael pulled back, suddenly looking very afraid.

 

“You need to leave.”

 

“Why?” Asked a very alarmed Jeremy.

 

“I’m the only thing holding this space together, Jeremy, without me this place will collapse with you in it!” Michael tugged Jeremy to his feet and then pushed him to a boarded up window, “you need to get out or you’ll…” Jeremy began tugging on the boards to no avail. Michael clutched the sides of his face, “I blocked the doors. This is your only way out! I-I’m so sorry, Jeremy!”

 

Jeremy paused, an almost eerie grin spreading over his face as he turned to look at Michael.

 

“Maybe I can come with you.” 

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed! I love comments :)


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